


A Little Comfort

by WorryinglyInnocent



Series: Fun in the Sun: Sizzling Smutlets [24]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Comfort Sex, F/M, NSFW, PWP, Smutlet, Woven Beauty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-09 17:54:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20122453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorryinglyInnocent/pseuds/WorryinglyInnocent
Summary: Weaver comes home late after a particularly difficult case, and Belle helps him to relax and put it behind him. Woven Beauty, pure PWP little smutlet.





	A Little Comfort

All the lights were out by the time Weaver returned to the apartment, and he couldn’t really say that he blamed Belle for not waiting up. The call had come in the middle of their evening, and all he could really be thankful for was that it had not interrupted their usual Friday night take-out. Belle had been washing up the plates when his phone had shattered their peace, and almost as soon as he had picked it up, he had known that it was not going to be a simple call out. The Friday night calls never were, and he always had to thank Belle’s infinite patience that she never minded being left on her own when these things began to happen. 

He didn’t turn the lights on as he came inside; he’d come home in the dark so often that he knew his way around the apartment by touch. There had been a few occasions in the past where he’d woken Belle up by bumping into things; although Belle maintained that it wasn’t the bumping that had woken her but the litany of swearing that had followed. 

As he entered the bedroom, he could just make out the shape of Belle in bed in the dim light of the moon peeping under the blinds. God, he wanted nothing more than to just collapse into bed beside her; he was dead on his feet, but he wanted to wash the crime scene off him first. It had not been a clean one. No murder scene was ever clean, but some crimes were more brutal, more affecting than others, and tonight’s was not one that he wanted to bring home with him. Forensics had collected as much evidence as they could, but there was not a lot more that they could do in the late hour and the investigation would begin again in the morning once everyone had got some sleep.

Weaver didn’t know how much sleep he was going to get. He wasn’t getting all that much these days. Everything was piling up and weighing on his mind. He watched Belle sleep for a few moments longer. She was definitely asleep. If she hadn’t been, she’d have made a quip about him being creepy by now. Sometimes he envied her ability to just drop off like that and get a full eight hours before bouncing up bright and early first thing in the morning to go to the animal shelter. 

At last, he kicked off his shoes and padded through into the bathroom, starting the shower. The pipes creaking in the ancient building would probably wake her now, and sure enough, her eyes were open when he came out again. She gave him a sleepy smile before beckoning him over to the bed and pulling him down for a kiss. 

“Bad night?” she asked. He nodded. “Want to talk about it?”

“No. Not now.” He kissed her again. Belle could make all the horrible thoughts go away, she always could, and she was always willing to do whatever she could to help him rest after a night like this. 

She pulled him in closer, hooking two fingers under the towel around his waist and yanking it off before shuffling over in the bed to get him in beside her. 

“Let me make you feel better,” she whispered, tracing her fingertips down his chest and over his forearm, taking his hand and placing it gently on her breast, rubbing his palm over her nipple as it pebbled beneath her silky nightgown. “Take what you need, baby. Forget all the horrible bits and love me instead.”

“Oh Belle, my love, you can always make it all go away.” He kissed her deeply, desperately, his tongue seeking out every inch of her mouth, hoping against hope that the taste of her could chase away the inevitable nightmares that would come after what he had witnessed tonight. 

“That’s it,” she crooned, gently pushing him over onto his back and climbing on top of him, pulling her nightgown off and taking his hands, interlacing her fingers with his before bringing their joined hands to her mouth and pressing little butterfly kisses over his skin. “I’ll make everything better, baby.”

On the nights like this one, they never put the lights on. Belle knew her way around his body blindfold, and Weaver let her take the lead as she put his hands on her waist and leaned in close for another kiss, pressing her pert little breasts up against his chest. Before he’d met Belle, he’d always considered himself more of an ass guy, but God, Belle’s breasts were beautiful, and the way she was kissing him was intoxicating; firm and plundering but always loving, always with tenderness behind the force, encouraging him to surrender and let her make everything all right. His cock was already beginning to stir. He needed the release tonight; he needed the rush of pleasure to balance out all the horrors in the world. He needed to know that he loved Belle and she loved him back, and no matter what might be going on outside, they had each other. 

Belle broke away from the kiss and Weaver gave a little moan of protest, wanting her lips back on his, making him lose his mind and forget the world. 

“You’ll be ok,” she soothed, running her fingertips gently up and down his chest, flicking over his nipples and making him hiss with pleasure. “Come on my love. Relax and forget about it all for now. Just focus on me. My hands. My mouth.”

Her lips followed the path that her fingers had taken, hot, wet kisses trailing over his skin and turning it to gooseflesh, her touch as light as a feather and just as maddening. 

“Please, Belle…”

“What do you need, sweetheart? What will make you feel better?”

One of her hands found his cock, stroking his length as he continued to grow and harden under her touch. 

“More of this?” she asked, cupping his balls in her other palm, rolling them gently. Weaver threw his head back against the pillows with a whimper. She always knew how to make his brain switch off. “Or maybe I can kiss it all away.”

Her breath ghosted over the tip of his cock, and Weaver could just about gather together enough mental fortitude to reach down and touch her face, stroking her cheek to get her to look up at him. He could make out her face in the darkness, the lines of her kind eyes and her soft, loving smile.

Weaver shook his head and beckoned her back up the bed. 

“I want to see your face, love. I want to hold you and never let go.”

Belle crawled back up until she was straddling him again, and Weaver curled his arms around her back, pulling her in close and burying his face in her hair. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it. I’ve got you.”

One hand snaked down between them to take his cock, and then she was sinking down onto him, tight and hot and wet, even though he hadn’t touched her. For a moment he felt a wave of guilt, the selfishness of ignoring Belle’s needs in favour of his own, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go of her, even as she rocked her hips and made his head spin. He would make it up to her in the morning; wake her with kisses between her thighs and go to work with her exquisite taste still on his tongue to see him through whatever the day would throw at him. 

It didn’t take long for him to reach his climax; still tense and wired from the evening’s investigation, the nervous energy coiled and tightened in his belly, reforming into desire and pleasure and spilling out with a cry muffled in Belle’s hair. 

“Thank you,” he breathed, and for a long moment, they just lay together, close and entangled as he began to soften inside her, but she made no move, petting his hair and kissing his nose, cheeks, forehead. 

“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart. I know how much you needed this.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“It’s not tit for tat, John.” Belle laughed, the sound vibrating against his chest. “I’m not keeping an orgasm tally. I love you, and I love making you feel better.”

“I love making you feel better too. I love you.”

Nothing more was said as they continued to lie together, Belle eventually shifting and letting him slip out of her, moving so that his head was pillowed against her breasts and she could keep stroking his hair. He’d sleep well like this, with Belle as his watchful protector, keeping him safe from the world, and he closed his eyes. 

The case was still out there, waiting for him to go back to it tomorrow, but for now, he could put it to the side, and just think about Belle. She was so good to him, and he would strive to be just as good to her in return. 

He finally drifted off to thoughts of just how lucky he was to love her.


End file.
